


Across the Hall

by impalagirl, wilddragonflying



Series: Roleplays [49]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AU - No superpowers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brock is an asshole, Bucky doesn't have a prosthetic, Canon Disabled Character, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Modern AU, Neighbors AU, Pining, Steve has geckos, and is a preschool teacher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7916833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalagirl/pseuds/impalagirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Bucky wakes up the next morning with the mother of all hangovers, and it takes him a moment to realise that the pounding isn't just in his head. "I could kiss you," he tells Natasha when he lets her in, all but hanging off the doorframe in an attempt to remain upright. "Did you remember the extra sausage?"</i>
</p><p><i>"Duh," Natasha says, grinning as she sweeps through the doorway into Bucky's kitchen. "Oh, I think you're getting a new neighbor, by the way. Directly across the hall."</i> </p><p>
  <i>Bucky follows her, frowning. "How the hell do you know?"</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"New car with cardboard boxes in the parking lot, and that's the only empty apartment in the building," Natasha answers. "Didn't see the person, but hey, maybe you can get a start on making new friends."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Maybe," Bucky agrees gamely. "If I don't die first."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across the Hall

"That's it," Bucky says, mostly to himself. He's sitting on his living room floor, his back against the couch, with half a bottle of beer in his hand and a full one waiting between his thighs. Natasha is on the opposite armchair, nowhere near as drunk as he is but getting there, and watching him with the same indulgent look she's had on her face ever since she got here several hours ago. Christ, it must be getting on for three a.m., but she hasn't complained once, bless her soul. She's just patiently gotten Bucky smashed out of his mind and let him Not Talk About It to his heart's content. Maybe that's why he's talking about it now, or maybe he was going to talk about it all along. He always does, eventually. "I give up," he adds, because fuck it.

"Give up on what?" Natasha asks, although she's pretty sure she's already got a good idea.

"Dating," Bucky answers. He raises the bottle to his lips and drains half of what's left before continuing. "I'm sick of it. M'better off on my own."

Natasha sighs. "Okay, Brock was not a good guy," she admits, "but that doesn't mean you have to give up on dating." 

Bucky shakes his head. "It's not just Brock," he says. "It's everyone. I just can't anymore."

Nat takes a chance, sliding off of her armchair to sit on Bucky's left side. "Maybe you should get to know people more before you ask them on dates." 

Bucky glares at her halfheartedly. "So it's my fault?"

"Of course not," Nat says, swatting him on the shoulder. "I meant, you've gotten prickly. And people are assholes when it comes to people who are different." 

Bucky shakes his head, sighs. "There's not a whole lot I can do about being different," he says. "I thought I knew this guy, tonight, but. Guess not."

"I know," Nat says sympathetically. "Maybe just take a break for a while, okay? Make some new friends before you start worrying about finding a life partner." 

Bucky rolls his eyes. "All right, O wise one," he says. "How many friends do you have?"

"Six," Nat answers promptly. "Wait, no - sorry, seven." 

"Oh." Bucky doesn't know why he didn't know that. Probably because Natasha's his only friend. "Well."

Natasha huffs, leaning against Bucky and wrapping an arm around him. "C'mon; let's get you to bed, and I'll bring you breakfast from IHOP in the morning, with extra sausage." 

Bucky smiles at that and lets Natasha help him to his feet. "Thanks, Nat," he says sincerely. "You're the best."

"Of course I am," Nat says breezily, giving Bucky a squeeze. "Now finish your drink, and we'll get you into bed." 

* * *

Bucky wakes up the next morning with the mother of all hangovers, and it takes him a moment to realise that the pounding isn't just in his head. "I could kiss you," he tells Natasha when he lets her in, all but hanging off the doorframe in an attempt to remain upright. "Did you remember the extra sausage?"

"Duh," Natasha says, grinning as she sweeps through the doorway into Bucky's kitchen. "Oh, I think you're getting a new neighbor, by the way. Directly across the hall." 

Bucky follows her, frowning. "How the hell do you know?"

"New car with cardboard boxes in the parking lot, and that's the only empty apartment in the building," Natasha answers. "Didn't see the person, but hey, maybe you can get a start on making new friends." 

"Maybe," Bucky agrees gamely. "If I don't die first."

Natasha gives him a puzzled look as she spreads the takeout on the table. "What are you talking about, Barnes?" 

"I feel like I have an entire herd of elephants standing on my head right now. If that doesn't kill me, nothing will."

Natasha rolls her eyes. "Quit being dramatic," she scolds. "Take some Advil and eat your breakfast." 

Bucky chuckles. "Yes ma'am."

* * *

By the time Natasha leaves, Bucky's nearing the end of his hangover. "I left a new bottle of Advil on the counter," she says as she slips her shoes back on. "If you need anything - " A knock on the door interrupts her, and she looks at Bucky with a raised eyebrow. "Expecting someone?" 

"Am I ever?" Bucky asks, already making for the door. He checks the peephole before he opens it, but all he sees is chest, so he's in no way prepared for the face that goes with it. "Uhh," he says eloquently, his mouth suddenly dry. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Steve, your new n-neighbor," the face says, flushing brilliant red when he trips over his words; he hadn't expected his across-the-hall neighbor to be so hot, or the empty space at his left side. Steve remembers Peggy Carter saying something about how she had a couple of vets in the building, and he guesses he just found one. He's quick to recover, jerking his gaze back up to his neighbor's face. "Sorry, I'm sorry; I was just introducing myself, figured I should start with the guy across the - Nat?" 

"Steve? What the hell, you didn't tell me you were moving today!"

"So you two know each other," Bucky says, already moving out of the way. "What a coincidence."

"Sorry, Bucky - Steve Rogers. Steve, Bucky Barnes," Nat says hastily. "I gotta run, have to pick up Clint's dog from the vet, but I'll call you both soon, okay?" With that, she slips through the space between the two men, leaving them alone. 

Steve offers Bucky an apologetic smile. "Sorry, this apartment wasn't even on my list, but Sharon pulled a couple of strings with her aunt to get the price lowered for a few months. I just moved back into the area, and my job doesn't start until the end of summer." 

Bucky nods, feeling oddly off-balance - and not just because Steve is, frankly, gorgeous. "Ms Carter's a sweetheart," he says genially.

"She is," Steve agrees. "Anyway, um - like I said, I was just introducing myself. I'll uh, get out of your hair now." 

"Okay," Bucky says, because he's an idiot. "Umm. Just knock if you need anything."

"Thanks," Steve says sincerely. "I will." 

* * *

As soon as Steve is safely ensconced in his new apartment, he calls Sam, who leaves it to the last ring before he answers, because he's an asshole. "Hey man," he says. "Your punk ass need my help moving after all?"

"No, I'm all moved in, but I'm an asshole," Steve complains. 

"So what else is new?" Sam asks cheerfully. "What have you done now?"

"I went to go greet my neighbor across the hall, and I stared," Steve says glumly. "Not because he was hot - although he definitely was - but because he's a vet. He lost his left arm." 

Sam whistles low. "I'd've thought you'd have more tact than that, Rogers."

Steve facepalms. "I know," he groans. "I mean, I don't think I stared too long? Just a few seconds, maybe, but it caught me off-guard and then I bolted after a really awkward conversation." 

"Skills," Sam says flatly. "Well, the way I see it you've got two options."

"Which are?" Steve asks morosely as he finishes setting up Basil and Thyme's terrarium. 

"Either you avoid him like the plague and never see him again," Sam says, like this is a perfectly viable option, "or you go talk to him."

"Either you avoid him like the plague and never see him again," Sam says, like this is a perfectly viable option, "or you go talk to him."

"Think I can get the grocery store down the block to deliver?"

Sam's laugh is more like a bark. "Get your ass over there, Christ."

"And do what?" Steve protests. "Bake him a pie with 'Sorry I got distracted by your missing arm' on the crust?" 

"Invite him over for a beer, numbskull," Sam says. "Or ask him for a cup of sugar. Or _apologise_."

Steve whines, dropping his forehead down to thunk gently against the glass of the terrarium. "This would be so much easier if he was a three-year-old." 

"You give your students beer?" Sam asks, only slightly concerned.

Steve snorts. "Of course not. But you know how I get around people I find attractive." 

"Maybe he's not a three-year-old, but it sounds like you are," Sam says. "Been picking up tips from your kids?"

Steve groans. "You're right," he mutters. "I'm a grown-ass adult... who can't bake. Do you think he'll accept storebought cookies?" 

Sam laughs again. "Dude, I'm sure he won't give a shit."

Steve sighs. "All right; let me finish getting Basil and Thyme's terrarium set up, and I'll go over with some cookies or something. Need to make sure the humidity monitor is running properly before I bring them into their new home." Basil and Thyme were crested geckos; Steve had taken them from a parent who'd bought them as Christmas gifts for a completely-uninterested child. 

Sam shudders audibly. "Fantastic," he says. "I will leave you to that."

Steve laughs. "I'm still insulted about how you avoid my babies," he teases. "I'll talk to you later, Sam." 

"Good luck, Rogers."

* * *

It's closing in for early evening when there's another knock on Bucky's door, and this time he's comfortable enough to not look through the peephole before he answers. With the way his throat constricts when he sees Steve, though, he realises he should probably _always_ check the peephole. "Steve," he says. "Hey."

This time, Steve is carrying a box of about a dozen chocolate chip cookies and a case of beer. "Hey," he says with a grin. "I uh, brought some cookies. An apology of sorts, I guess, for how - how awkward I was this morning. I didn't mean to be, and I'd like to apologize for my behavior." 

Bucky looks baffled, but he's smiling. "There's nothing to apologise for," he says, already reaching for the cookies, "but I'll take it."

Steve grins. "I've also got beer; there's a Dodgers game on tonight if you'd like to watch it together," he offers. 

Bucky hesitates, but he nods. "That sounds great."

"Awesome," Steve says happily. "My place or yours? Mine's still kind of a mess, but I've got a couch and the TV's hooked up." 

"Mine?" Bucky suggests. "I've got some frozen pizzas I can throw in the oven if we get hungry."

"Sounds great," Steve says. "It's still a bit early, but who knows." 

Bucky moves aside to let Steve in, follows him down the hall. "So you're a Dodgers fan?" he asks.

"Yup," Steve answers. "Since I was old enough to understand what a team was. My mom was a fan, too. Mind if I put the beers in the fridge?" 

"Go ahead," Bucky says. "You know where everything is, obviously."

"It's pretty similar to my apartment," Steve says, heading for the small kitchen. "How long have you been here?" 

"Few years," Bucky says vaguely. "Long enough to see at least three people come and go from your apartment, so watch out - it might be cursed."

Steve tosses Bucky a grin. "I'm a preschool teacher, man - it takes a lot more than a 'curse' to scare me off." 

"Ah, a Harry Potter nerd," Bucky guesses. "And a crazy person. _Preschool?_ "

"I've always had a way with kids," Steve says dismissively as he puts away the beer. "Where'd 'Harry Potter nerd' come from?" 

Bucky shrugs. "Curses and children," he says. "Don't they go hand-in-hand?"

Steve grins. "Harry Potter and curses and children? Yeah, I guess they do. But I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself." 

"I bet," Bucky says, and then shakes himself. "I mean, do you know who the Dodgers are up against tonight?"

"I think the Orioles," Steve answers. "You're a Dodgers fan, too?" 

"Sort of," Bucky says. "I haven't really followed any sport in a long time, but if I'm ever asked, it's always the Dodgers."

Steve grins. "Don't tell anyone, but I'm usually too busy with lesson plans and sleeping to follow any sport beyond 'they seem good.'" 

Bucky snorts. "Then why are you over here to watch the game?"

"Because I don't have lesson plans to write up today, and it's more fun to watch a game with company," Steve answers. 

Bucky grins. "I'll take it."

* * *

Bucky spends a bit more time with Steve over the next few days, and becomes increasingly distressed as time goes on. Eventually, closing in on the end of the week, he breaks and calls Natasha. "Why did you not _warn me?_ " he demands as soon as she answers the phone.

Natasha pulls the phone away from her ear to frown at it for a moment before she returns it to its former position and answers, "Warn you about what?" 

"Steve!'

Natasha laughs. "Why should I have warned you about Steve?" 

"He's just, he's just," Bucky stammers. "He's a lot, okay?"

Natasha grins. "You mean he's adorable, with the whole preschool teacher thing? Have you met his babies yet?" 

Bucky nearly chokes on his own tongue. "His babies?" he demands. "He has _kids?_ "

"Of a sort," Natasha laughs. "Their names are Basil and Thyme; he likes to take them to class with him on Fridays when his students have been good. You should ask him about them." 

"What makes you so sure I'm going to see him again?"

"He lives across the hall, and you wouldn't be calling to yell at me if you hadn't already seen him more than once," Natasha says reasonably. "What did he do that prompted this call, anyway?" 

"Nothing," Bucky insists, but then he sighs. "Everything."

Natasha chuckles. "Well, I'm sorry to say, Steve doesn't get any less cute the more you get to know him." 

"Is he dating anyone?" Bucky asks before he can help himself.

"Not that I know of," Natasha answers thoughtfully. "He just moved here from the other end of the state." 

Bucky grins to himself. "Interesting."

"And what happened to being done with dating?"

"Maybe that's not what I'm thinking of," Bucky says, a smirk evident in his voice.

"You're thinking of having a one night stand," Natasha says flatly. "With your neighbor." 

"Maybe."

Natasha sighs. "You've got a 50-50 shot of it working with him," she warns. "He might take you up on it, or he might not. He's not really the casual type." 

"Really?" Bucky asks, not sounding discouraged in the least. "What type is he, then?"

"The dating and commitment kind," Natasha answers. "He's had one boyfriend and one girlfriend; he was in both relationships for more than six months, and they were mutual breakups. I think he did a couple of one night stands at the beginning of college, but hasn't had one in years." 

"Okay," Bucky says, nodding. "I can work with that."

Natasha sighs. "If you do decide to try with him, I'm obliged to give you the shovel talk," she informs Bucky. 

"I thought you were my friend, too," Bucky whines. 

"I am," Natasha says, her smile evident in her voice. "That's why he'll get the same talk. But it's a moot point anyway," Natasha continues, "since you've sworn off dating and all." 

"True," Bucky says, frowning. "And for good reason."

"Yeah," Natasha agrees. "So maybe you should try to stick with that for more than a week." 

"Whatever," Bucky says. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Natasha sighs. "Okay; take care, Bucky." 

* * *

Bucky avoids Steve for the rest of the weekend, but when he turns up at his door on Monday night and invites him over to watch trashy reality TV, how can he say no? He grabs the six pack out of his fridge and follows Steve across the hall, letting out an appreciative whistle once they get into the apartment. "Wow," he says. "This place is looking great."

"Thanks," Steve says with a grin. "Had to enlist Sam to help bring up my bedframe boxes, and help me unpack and organize everything, but it's already starting to feel like home." 

Bucky nods. "That's good," he says, shooting Steve a grin. "Maybe you'll break the curse after all."

"Maybe," Steve says with a laugh. "So which trashy television show are we watching?" 

"Whatever you want," Bucky says, and flops down on the sofa. "You're the host."

"I think - Oh, hang on," Steve says apologetically. "Grab the remote, see if you can find anything on the guide. Basil's gotten himself stuck again." Sure enough, there's a high-pitched screeching noise coming from the terrarium, which is set up along one end of the bar that separates the kitchen from the living room. In the terrarium are two crested geckos; one warming herself on a rock in the afternoon sunlight, and the other stuck in the top corner of the terrarium, clinging to a small twig that's supposed to be out of his reach. Basil has a talent for getting himself stuck, though. 

"What the fuck was that?" Bucky asks, getting up to follow Steve curiously. "Who is Basil?"

"'That' was the sound of a gecko in distress," Steve answers. "Basil is one of my babies; Thyme is his sister." 

"Oh my god," Bucky murmurs, moving closer to get a better look. "Why geckos?"

"Christmas before last, one of the kid's parents bought them for the kid," Steve says, lifting the top of the terrarium to get Basil, who's still screaming. "Kid had absolutely no interest in them, and the pet store wouldn't take them back, so I volunteered to take them off of the parents' hands. Got way too attached, and now they're like my own kids." 

"They're so weird," Bucky says, but he says the last word like he means _beautiful_. He holds out his hands. "May I?"

Steve nods, handing over Basil, who's gone from screaming to the occasional chirp; Basil regards Bucky curiously before starting to climb up the new arm. "He's much more outgoing than Thyme," Steve says, gesturing towards the other, darker-colored gecko, who's now fallen asleep, totally unconcerned about her brother's disappearance.

"He's cute," Bucky says, laughing.

"He is, isn't he?" Steve says, grinning as Basil investigates Bucky's stubble, having made his way onto the other man's shoulder. Once the gecko is satisfied Bucky isn't hiding any crickets in there, he gives a small chirrup before settling into the crook of Bucky's neck and curling up. 

Bucky looks pleased as punch. "I'm assuming this means he likes me."

"It does," Steve reassures Bucky. "It means he likes you a lot." 

Bucky beams. "Maybe he'll help me butter up his sister."

"You have to bribe her with food," Steve says, unable to keep from grinning; Bucky's smile transforms his whole face. He's always handsome, but that smile - it makes him beautiful. 

Steve chuckles. "He can stay with you for a bit," he offers. "I'll grab us some food and we'll find a show to watch." 

Bucky grins. "Sounds good to me."

* * *

They spend the rest of the evening together, watching shitty TV and laughing at both it and themselves. Bucky is completely in love with both Basil and Thyme, who he managed to coax onto his palm for a whole fifteen seconds at one point, by the time he leaves - though he's desperately trying not to develop a soft spot for Steve, too. "Thanks for tonight," he says when Steve shows him to the door. "I had a good time."

"I did, too," Steve says with a smile, glancing back at the terrarium where Basil and Thyme are curled around each other and napping. "We should do it again sometime." 

And Bucky's supposed to be backing off from Steve, but he can't help the genuine smile that finds his lips at that. "Definitely," he agrees.

Steve beams. "Great; I've got work to do for the next few days at the school, but after that?" 

Bucky nods, grinning back. "Just come and find me."

* * *

Either Bucky keeps missing Steve or Steve just doesn't find time, but they don't see each other for the rest of the week. On Friday Natasha swings by to take Bucky out for drinks, and he goes willingly, excited to get out of the apartment for something other than his daily run. They wind up in the local gay bar that's recently taken to sulking moodily in the shadow of the much more popular local gay club; only a handful of loyal regulars are keeping it open at this point, and Bucky's proud to count himself among that number. It's a little outdated inside, sure, but it's quiet and comfortable and there's unlikely to be any fresh blood in the crowd, which means that Bucky's in minimal danger of humiliating himself.

At least, that's been the case until now. "Is that Steve?" Bucky asks the moment they get through the door - a little too loudly, it would seem, because the man in question looks up at the sound of his name and sees them.

"Hey," Steve says with a grin from the booth he and Sam have appropriated. "Have a seat, there's plenty of room." 

"Are you sure?" Bucky asks, looking at Nat. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Nah," Steve says, scooting over. "There's plenty of room." 

Natasha gives Bucky a shove. "Sit down, buddy," she says, then promptly takes the seat next to Sam. "Hi," she says with a grin. "I'm Natasha." 

Bucky sits down while Sam grins back. "Sam," he says. "I've heard a lot about you."

Natasha smirks. "I'm sure you have." 

"Don't flatter yourself," Steve shoots. "Not all of it was good." 

"Butt out, Rogers," Natasha retorts. "Go make doe eyes at Bucky or something." 

Bucky responds by kicking her sharply under the table, and turning to smile at Steve. "How are the babies?"

"Basil's gotten himself stuck three more times," Steve says with a laugh while Natasha returns Bucky's kick with the point of her heel. "You'd think he'd learn by now." 

Bucky laughs. "You could always just rearrange the set-up in there," he points out.

"I did," Steve protests. "Twice! He found different things to get stuck on. I think he's doing it for the attention, honestly." 

"Well, give them both my love," Bucky says seriously, grinning, and across the table Sam snorts.

"Seriously?" he demands. "You're sending Satan and his mistress your _love_?"

"They're brother and sister!" Bucky protests.

"They're _evil_."

"They're sweet geckos, and I don't know what you have against them," Steve retorts. 

"They're hideous," Sam complains.

"They're adorable," Bucky counters, "and you're jealous. Does anyone want a drink?"

Steve sticks his tongue out at Sam as Natasha nods. "Grab me a rum and coke," she requests. 

"I want a Margarita," Steve decides. 

"I'll have a beer," Sam says, sounding intimidated. "Keep it simple, yeah?"

"Man after my own heart," Bucky says, easing himself out of the booth. He glances at Steve. "I'll buy if you help carry?"

"Deal," Steve says, sliding out after Bucky. 

"Let me guess," Bucky says when they reach the bar, leaning against it while they wait for their order to be taken. "Sam is the ally in this situation?"

"He's bisexual, actually," Steve answers. "Leans more towards women, but he's been with guys in the past." Including his Air Force partner, Riley - though that relationship had been ended by Riley's death. Sam was still affected by it three years later. 

"Woops," Bucky says. "My bad."

"It's cool," Steve says, waving a hand. "What about you?" 

"I'm gay," Bucky says easily. "No clue about Nat, but she seems happy enough to come here every weekend."

"I've never asked," Steve says thoughtfully. "Oh hey, here comes the bartender." 

Bucky places their order and turns to face the crowd while they wait. Quite a few of the tables are occupied, but he knows from experience that this is nothing compared to before the competition arrived on the scene. It's kind of sad, really. "You been here before?" he asks Steve.

"First time," Steve answers. "Here, anyway. Went to a couple of places like this in my old towns." 

"Yeah?"

"Yup. Being a teacher doesn't leave a lot of time for sleeping, much less anything else, though."

"That's a shame," Bucky says. "We'll have to make the most of tonight, then."

"Oh?" Steve asks, looking at Bucky with a grin. 

Bucky turns back to the bartender. "And a round of shots, please," he requests. "Tequila."

"Tequila?" Steve demands, laughing. "What are you planning?" 

Bucky grins. "Let's find out."

* * *

"You're feeding me a greasy hangover-curing breakfast tomorrow," Steve informs Bucky as the four of them make their way out of the bar. "I can already tell I'm gonna have the mother of them all." 

"You got it," Bucky agrees, laughing. "Make sure you drink plenty of water before you go to sleep."

"This isn't my first hangover," Steve says indignantly as Sam helps him over to a cab; tequila always makes Steve unsteady on his feet. 

"I bet it's not," Bucky chuckles. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"See ya," Steve says with a wave as he and Sam get into the cab. "I really like him," he adds in a sigh, leaning against Sam's shoulder. 

"Yeah?" Sam asks, equal parts amused and endeared. "I couldn't tell."

Steve snorts. "He likes my babies," he points out. "I might like him more than I do you." 

Sam laughs. "You should tell him."

Steve frowns. "I can't," he whines. "He's my neighbor, it'd be weird." 

"What if he likes you back, though?"

Steve sighs. "I don't think he does," he answers mournfully. 

Sam scoffs. "Why not?"

"Because he's a friend," Steve whines. "And he doesn't flirt." 

"You could flirt," Sam suggests. "See if he responds."

Steve sighs. "He wouldn't want me to flirt with him, though," he sulks. "He's only known me for two weeks." 

"Won't know until you try," Sam insists as the cab slows to a stop. "Come on, pal, this is you."

Steve sighs. "Don't want to try," he mutters, but gets out of the cab regardless. "Thanks, Sam." 

"No problem, kid," Sam says gently. "Get some sleep."

* * *

Steve turns up on Bucky's doorstep a little after noon, and Bucky just grins and steps out into the hall, closing the door quietly behind him. "So you survived the night, then," he teases. "I thought I'd take you out for breakfast; Nat's still feeling a little delicate."

Steve makes a face. "As long as it isn't too loud," he says after a moment. 

Bucky laughs. "I promise."

Bucky takes him to a diner just around the corner; the smell of grease is thick in the air before they even get inside, but it's inviting rather than repulsive by the time they sit down at a small table in the back. The waitress knows Bucky well and immediately swoops down on them with strong coffee and dry toast, and asks Steve if he wants Bucky's usual.

"The biggest breakfast in the place," she elaborates. "Three of everything."

"Please," Steve says fervently. 

Bucky grins at him as the waitress walks away. "How are you feeling?"

Steve groans. "Not as good as I'll feel with some coffee in me." 

Bucky just laughs. "Then drink up."

* * *

They're both feeling decidedly more human by the time they leave, and they exchange easy conversation on the walk back to their building. Bucky's enjoying the company so much that he hesitates outside his door, a regretful smile playing about his lips. "I'd invite you in but it sounds like Natasha's still having a rough time of it."

Steve laughs, raising his hands in surrender. "No, I got more than enough of that in college. You can deal with her now." 

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Thanks," he says. "I'll see you soon?"

"Sure," Steve says, and then his grin suddenly turns to a shy smile. "Maybe at dinner? My treat." 

This isn't what Bucky was expecting. "You don't have to do that," he says, and he means it. "I was the one who gave you the hangover this morning; you don't owe me for breakfast."

"Maybe I'm not trying to pay you back."

"Oh," Bucky says. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Steve says, though his smile's slipped into something more uncertain. 

Bucky sees it, and can't find it in himself to say no. "Sure," he says, with a smile of his own. "I'd really like that."

"Yeah?" Steve asks, hopeful. "Maybe tonight?" 

Bucky nods. "Tonight," he agrees.

"Awesome," Steve grins. "Seven? We can go to that Masaki place a few blocks away." 

"Sounds perfect."

As soon as Bucky gets inside he goes in search of Natasha, but it seems she's finally managed to make it out of the bathroom and into bed; she's fast asleep, so he busies himself with tidying the apartment so that he doesn't have to think about Steve. By the time Nat sees fit to put in an appearance, he's taken to sitting on the sofa, staring miserably at his own hand. He looks up when he hears her footsteps and gives her a gentle smile.

"Feeling better?"

Natasha studies Bucky for a moment before she carefully settles herself on the sofa next to him. "Better than you; what happened?" 

"I don't know, exactly," Bucky says. "I think Steve asked me out."

"You think?"

"Well, he didn't actually say, 'Go on a date with me'. He just asked me out to dinner."

"Huh," Natasha says thoughtfully. "Did he say anything else? What'd he look like, did he look like a dejected puppy when you hesitated?" 

"Maybe a little?" Bucky hedges.

Natasha snorts. "He was probably asking you out on a date then. You hesitated before answering, he got all dejected, and then you said yes and he got happy again, right?" 

"How do you know this?" Bucky demands. "You should be half dead right now."

"Because I went to college with him," Natasha answers, kicking her feet up onto the coffee table. "And I've got a fast metabolism." 

"Clearly not that fast, or were you just making love to my toilet this morning?" Bucky asks, before he sighs. "What the fuck do I do?"

"Once I'm done puking I'm fine," Natasha says, waving one hand dismissively. "And you go to dinner with him, then tell him you don't feel ready for a relationship or whatever. He's a good guy, he'll understand, and he won't hold it against you." 

"I don't want to hurt him, though," Bucky says miserably.

"Steve's a big boy, he'll handle it." Natasha reaches over to massage the back of Bucky's neck soothingly. "And you don't owe him anything." 

Bucky nods. "I know," he says. "You're right." Doesn't stop him from feeling like shit, though.

Natasha gives the back of his neck a squeeze. "You can do this." 

* * *

"You can do this," Steve mutters to himself as he raises his fist to knock on Bucky's door at seven sharp. "You can do this." 

Bucky answers half a heartbeat later, looking sharp in black jeans and a navy button down, which is pinned neatly over his left shoulder. His hair is tousled artfully and his shoes are shined, and he feels like a sham. "Hey," he greets Steve warmly. "You look great."

Steve flushes, ducking his head. "You, too," he says. "You look great. Ready to go?" 

"Yep. Still the Masaki place?"

"Yeah, I haven't been, and it looks good," Steve says, stepping back so Bucky can close his door. 

Bucky does so, and they start to head out. "Nat only left about an hour ago," he tells Steve once they reach the street. "She was out cold when I got back from breakfast."

"I'm sure," Steve says with a chuckle. "She always slept most of her hangover off, lucky duck.” 

"Were you okay after you got home?" Bucky asks, genuine concern warming his voice.

Steve, pleased with Bucky's concern, nods. "It's a wonder what some greasy food will do for a hangover," he says with a laugh. 

Bucky grins. "Glad I could help."

* * *

They enjoy a nice meal and even better company, and a fair amount of alcohol as well. They're not drunk by any means, too wary after the morning from hell, but Bucky's loose enough that when their hands brush on the walk home he doesn't pull away. He's also happy to blame the booze for the fact that he ultimately finds himself sitting in Steve's apartment instead of his own, perfectly content to watch Basil and Thyme snoozing in their terrarium while Steve goes in search of something soft to drink.

Steve hesitates in the doorway when he returns, and after a moment Bucky looks over to give him a soft, almost tender smile. "What is it?"

Steve returns the smile, bringing the two bottles of soda with him as he settles on the couch next to Bucky. "Nothing, it's just - I've had a great time tonight."

Bucky smiles back. "Me too."

They lapse into silence for a few moments before Steve tentatively says, "I've been enjoying the past few weeks - spending time with you, I mean. You're a really interesting guy, and I like you; I'd like to get to know you better."

Bucky's smile falters, and he looks down, embarrassed. He's neither drunk or sober enough for this conversation. "Steve, I like you, too," he admits. "But if this is headin' where I think it is, I'm not so sure it's a good idea."

"Why not?" Steve asks; not maliciously, not demanding, just genuinely curious. "I like you, I'm interested by you, and if you're interested in me, then why don't we at least get to know each other better?"

"I'm not saying we can't, I just..." Bucky sighs. "You deserve better than a guy like me."

Steve frowns. "A guy like you?" he repeats, trying not to sound hurt. "What do you mean?" 

But Bucky just shakes his head. "It's not a good idea, okay? You'll get hurt."

"And I don't get a say, whether or not I think it's worth the risk?"

Bucky has no idea what to say to that, so he falls back on what Natasha told him earlier. "I'm not ready for a relationship," he says. "I don't know if I ever will be."

Steve nods, glancing down at the soda in his hands. "Okay," he says quietly. "I respect that." 

"I'm sorry," Bucky says, soft and achingly sincere. "I don't want to lose you as a friend."

"You won't," Steve hastens to reassure Bucky. "I like you, and you're already my friend. I'm not gonna abandon you just because you turned me down." 

Bucky gives him a gentle smile. "Would it be terribly cliché to say that it's honestly not you?"

Steve grins and bumps Bucky's shoulder with his own. "A little," he teases. "But like I said, I respect your reasons." 

"Thank you," Bucky says, and he means it from the bottom of his heart. "I guess I should get home, huh?"

Steve wants to ask him to stay - but he knows that wouldn't end well. "Yeah, that might be a good idea," Steve says quietly. 

Bucky's smile turns sad, and he gets to his feet. "Thanks again for tonight," he offers. "I had a good time."

"I did, too," Steve says - because overall, he did. "I'll see you tomorrow?" 

"Yeah," Bucky says. "Tomorrow."

* * *

Steve waits until he hears Bucky's front door slam before he grabs his phone and calls Natasha. She answers on the third ring, and it sounds like there's a party going on in the background. "This better be good."

"Bucky turned me down," Steve says morosely, shifting so he's sprawled on the couch. 

"What?" Nat shouts. "Bucky went down on you?!"

" _No!_ " Steve shouts back. "Look, if you're busy I'll just call back later." 

"No no no, wait!" Nat cries. For a few moments there's nothing but music and a mass of voices, but then a door slams and the din is abruptly silenced. "Sorry, it's crazy in there. What happened?"

"Bucky and I went out for dinner, and I said I wanted to get to know him better," Steve says. "He turned me down. Where are you?" 

"Just out," Nat says. "Are you okay?"

"Bit disappointed," Steve admits. "But he's a friend, and I respect the reason he gave me. I've never understood all that 'friendzone' bullshit." 

"He wasn't a dick about it, right?"

"No, he was nice," Steve says. "I'm still disappointed, but I'm okay with being his friend. He said he wasn't ready for a relationship, and I'm okay with that." Maybe if he says it enough times it'll become true. 

Nat sighs. "Give him time," she says. "I obviously can't make any promises, but even as a friend I know you'll be good for him."

"I'll do my best," Steve promises. He's quiet for a moment, then says, "He said I deserved someone better than him." 

"Of course he did," Nat says. "What do you think?"

"I think he's got a past that he hasn't told me about," Steve says. "Which is why I asked if we could get to know each other better. But he's a good man, Nat; he's smart, he's kind, he's funny and sarcastic, too. I really like him." 

"I know," Nat says soothingly. "If he had any sense in his head, he'd really like you, too."

"He said he liked me," Steve says quietly. "But he doesn't want to attempt a relationship. I don't know why, he didn't say." 

"Give him time," Nat repeats. "He'll tell you when he's ready."

Steve sighs. "You're right," he sighs. "I know you are. I'm sorry for keeping you; go back to your party or whatever." 

But Nat won't be deterred that easily. "Do you want me to come over?" she asks. "This is pretty lame anyway."

"Nah," Steve says dismissively. "I'll be fine. I've got Basil and Thyme for company." 

Nat sighs. "All right," she says. "Call me if you change your mind."

"I will," Steve promises. "Now get back to your date." 

"Date?" Natasha demands. "Who said I was on a date?"

"Oh, so it wasn't you Sam was going to a party with?"

"I hate you," Nat hisses. "See if I help you again."

Steve laughs. "You love me; tell Sam I said hi." 

"Yeah yeah," Nat grumbles, and hangs up.

* * *

Bucky does see Steve the next day, but only in passing when he goes out to check the mail. Things are a little awkward between them, but Bucky smiles and Steve smiles back, and then they both retreat back behind their doors. It improves as the next few weeks go by, until they're both quite happy to hang out when either Nat or Sam are present, and even to chat amiably when they bump into each other in the hall, but they don't spend any time together alone.

Still, it's thanks to these little meetings on the stairs that Steve knows there's no one home when he hears someone trying to break down Bucky's door one morning.

"Hey Barnes, open up! I need to talk to you!"

Steve can't even see the guy yet and already he dislikes him. Still, Bucky's door doesn't deserve that kind of treatment, and their neighbors don't need to hear this guy yelling, so Steve pushes himself off of the couch and opens his own door. "Hey," he snaps. "Bucky isn't home, so quit trying to break down his door." 

The guy spins and fixes Steve with a glare. "Who the fuck are you?"

"One of the tenants you're pissing off," Steve retorts. "Why the hell do you want to talk to Bucky so badly?" 

"That's between me and him," the guy snaps. "Just tell him to call me, okay? Tell him to call Brock."

"Hate to break it to you," Steve says slowly, stepping to the hall and pulling his door shut behind him before cross his arms over his chest, "but if he hasn't already called you, it's because he doesn't want to talk to you." 

"I don't give a shit what he wants! If he doesn't call me I'll keep coming back here until he does."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "So you'll harass him?" he clarifies. "Don't think anyone here would take kindly to that." 

"Not my problem," Brock insists. "Just tell him, okay?"

"No, I don't think I will," Steve says, arms uncrossing as he steps forward. "You've just made yourself _my_ problem, and I'm not in a patient mood." Steve grabs the other man by the upper arm and starts pushing him towards the stairwell, bypassing the elevator because he's petty like that. "Get lost." 

"Fuck you, man," Brock snarls, but he lets Steve manhandle him. "You better hope I don't have to come back here."

Steve 'accidentally' bangs Brock's shoulder against the doorjamb. "I'll throw you down the stairs if you show up uninvited again," he says calmly, giving the other man one more shove for good measure before he releases him. "Now _get lost._ " 

Brock wisely does as he says.

* * *

Bucky gets home about an hour later, and he immediately notices that there's been a disturbance. The little gnome Natasha gave him as a housewarming present years ago that he keeps beside his front door has fallen over, his tiny fishing rod knocked right out of his hands. Bucky crouches to right it, looks around for any more clues. "What the fuck?"

Steve hears Bucky's arrival, and quickly comes out of his own apartment. "Bucky, hey - Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see he'd gotten knocked over. You had a, uh - a rather rude visitor." 

Bucky looks up, his smile quickly fading as he gets to his feet. "What? Who?"

"Some asshole named Brock."

Bucky goes very still. "Brock?" he demands. "What did he want?"

Steve shrugs. "I don't know; kept telling me to tell you to call him, and I got sick of his attitude so I threw him into the stairwell. Told him I'd throw him down the stairs if he showed up without an invitation again," he admits. 

Bucky actually laughs. "Great," he says. "Wish I could've seen that."

Steve grins. "He was an ass; I didn't like him." 

"You're not alone," Bucky says. "But I did once."

"You used to be friends?"

Bucky's mouth tightens at the corners. "Something like that."

 _Oh._ "Well, I told him if you hadn't called him before, you probably had a reason," Steve says with a shrug.

"There is," Bucky agrees. "I mean, you met the guy."

"Not a pleasant person," Steve agrees. He hesitates for a moment before asking, "Did you - were you dating?" 

"For a while," Bucky admits. He hesitates, looking around, and then says, "Do you want to come in?"

Steve's surprised by the invitation, but he nods. "Yeah, I'd like that." 

Bucky just nods and turns away to unlock the door.

Steve follows him inside, but unfortunately walking into a more private setting only serves to make things more awkward. And Steve makes things even worse when he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind: "So what's the story with you and him?" 

Bucky gives him a sad smile. "We were together while I was still in the army," he says. "We weren't engaged or anything but he was nice and I liked him. Then this happened--" He gestures to his left shoulder, "--and he said he'd stick by me, help me out. But he couldn't handle it."

"Well that's bullshit," Steve says. "So he just left you?" 

Bucky laughs. "No," he says. "He, uhh. He kicked me out."

"He _what?_ "

Steve shakes his head. "I can blame him; it's one thing to break things off, but to treat you like that? I'm wishing I'd kicked him down the stairwell when I had the chance." 

"It's okay," Bucky says. "He's gone, and with a bit of luck he won't be back. If he is, I'll deal with him."

"No, it's not okay," Steve argues. "That dick shouldn't have come here in the first place after how he treated you." 

"I don't even know how he found me," Bucky admits. "It's not like he helped me move my shit. Maybe I should give him a call."

"Wait, you can't be serious," Steve protests. "The guy dumped you in a bad way, and you want to get back in touch with him?" 

"Just to see what he wants," Bucky says, defensive. "It might be important."

"How important can it be? Did you leave an heirloom behind when you left?"

"Of course not, but I can't have him coming back here and harassing the neighbours until he sees me."

Steve shrugs. "I'll take care of him - or you could always call the police." 

Bucky sighs. "I don't know," he says. "I don't want to see him, but maybe if I hear him out he'll go away."

"People like him don't just go away," Steve points out. "Give them an inch and they'll take a mile." 

"Except that the last time I gave him an inch he used it to hang me out to dry," Bucky points out.

"Then don't even give him that much," Steve says. "Plant your feet." 

"You're right," Bucky says. "We'll just see what he does."

Steve nods, worrying at his lower lip for a moment before he dares to ask, "Is that part of why you said you're not ready for a relationship?" 

Bucky blows out a breath, and perches on the arm of his couch. "Part of it, yeah."

Steve leans against the back of the armchair, giving Bucky an encouraging look. "Part of it?" 

Bucky gives him a soft, self-deprecating smile. "You don't want to hear my sob story."

"Of course I do," Steve says. "I meant what I said about wanting to get to know you better - romantically or not." 

Bucky just shrugs. "I don't have a very pretty dating history, let's put it that way."

Steve's expression softens. "People being assholes about your arm?" he asks. 

"Some of it's that, yeah," Bucky says. "But even before... I was with a guy in the army, and we had to keep it a secret, y'know? But he wasn't out, not even to himself, and I think he blamed me for his eureka moment, like I'd corrupted him in some way."

"Damn," Steve says with a wince. 

Bucky shrugs again. "It was pretty bad. Brock was my last real relationship, though. And I went through a ton of one night stands after that."

"That's not bad; the one-night stands, I mean."

"I know," Bucky agrees, "but my mental state was. I was coming to terms with my disability, and with being abandoned because of it; I was a giant commitment-phobe, hated the idea of letting anyone mean anything to me. I hurt a lot of people."

Steve nods understandingly. "But you regret doing that?" he guesses. "Hurting them, I mean."

Bucky nods. "I wasn't a very nice person," he says. "I had absolutely no interest in anything other than getting in their pants, and I made that abundantly clear. And then by the time I thought I was ready to try something serious again, I think I'd forgotten how."

"So you didn't even try?" Steve guesses. 

"I tried," Bucky says, defensive. "It just didn't work out.

"So you think it never will."

Bucky looks away. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" Steve asks softly. 

"I just-- I'm sick of it."

"Sick of what?"

Bucky looks up then, his eyes soft and sad. "Getting hurt."

"And you think I'd hurt you?" Steve asks quietly. 

"I think I'd beat you to it," Bucky says, "and hurt you in the process."

"That's what happens in relationships, Buck," Steve argues. "Sometimes you hurt your partner, sometimes they hurt you - sometimes it's an accident, sometimes it isn't, when you're both mad and looking to make the other hurt as much as you do, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't give the relationship a try." 

"It's not the same," Bucky insists. "I don't know how to let anyone get that far in."

"Then don't let me in that far right away," Steve says. "I'm not asking for everything, Bucky - I'm asking for a chance. As slow or fast as you want, I don't care." 

"Why?"

"Why what?" Steve asks, voice quiet. 

"Why me?"

"Because you're - you're you," Steve says. "You're smart, you're brave, you're kind..." He reaches out hesitantly, unsure if the touch is welcome, and just barely rests his fingertips against Bucky's left shoulder. "This is proof enough of the bravery. The way you treat my geckos gives away the kindness, and Nat doesn't bother befriending idiots." 

"That isn't bravery," Bucky says, but he doesn't sound angry, just tired and sad, and he even leans into Steve's touch a little. "That's an IED, three dead men, and me screaming for a mother who died ten years ago."

"It's also you staying alive," Steve adds, more confident now and bringing his other hand up to rest against the side of Bucky's neck. "It's you learning to cope with what happened, and fighting through every day until you learned how to work just as well with one arm as you ever did with two." 

"You sound so sure," Bucky says softly, still no bite to his words. "Like you know me."

"Because I do," Steve says, like it's the simplest thing in the world. "I've been paying attention to you, and it's not hard to know you when I do that." 

"I'm not a good person," Bucky warns. "I'm selfish; I wouldn't let you get too close to me and I'd hurt you if you tried."

Steve shrugs. "I have a tendency to just shut people out with no warning, and no explanation when I let them back in," he replies. "I can't count the number of parents I've pissed off because of how I speak my mind, and I can be as stubborn as my students sometimes. I'm not exactly a saint, either." 

Bucky laughs. "Could've fooled me."

Steve grins. "Well, then maybe you should pay a bit more attention to me," he teases, stepping in closer to Bucky; it seems like the most natural thing in the world to drop his head just enough to brush his lips against Bucky's, and Steve doesn't fight the urge.

Bucky sighs into the kiss and accepts it, returns it, even swipes his tongue along Steve's bottom lip before he pulls away, but when he does so it's with flushed cheeks and wild eyes. "What are we doing?"

It takes Steve brain a moment to catch up. "We... kissed?" 

"We shouldn't," Bucky says. "We can't do this."

Steve wants to argue, to beg and plead for Bucky to change his mind, but - What kind of person would that make him, if he pushed and argued Bucky into something Bucky obviously doesn't want? "Okay," he says, letting his hands drop as he backs away a couple of steps from Bucky. "All right. I’m sorry for - I guess I'll just - " He gestures vaguely over his shoulder in the general direction of the door.

Bucky looks pained, but he doesn't call Steve back. "I'm sorry."

Steve tries to give Bucky a reassuring smile, but it probably looks more like a grimace. "It's fine," he says. "I'll just take some time to readjust, but it'll be fine."

Bucky can't bring himself to speak, so he just nods and looks away.

* * *

It's a full week later when there's a polite knocking on Steve's door. "Come in," Steve calls from where he's cleaning the terrarium. "Door's open."

"Hey," Nat says when she walks into the room. "Hi babies." She takes a seat and sighs. "How are you doing?"

Steve frowns, giving Nat a concerned look as he gives Basil one last chin skritch before closing the top of the terrarium. "I'm doing fine. How about you?"

"I'm okay," Nat answers. "Have you spoken to Bucky?"

"Not since last week, why?"

Natasha shrugs. "Just asking."

Steve gives Natasha the flattest look he can manage. "Really."

Nat smiles. "All right," she says. "How do you feel about what happened?"

Steve sighs. "Still a bit disappointed, but I've learned my lesson. Bucky might be interested in me, but he's not interested in a relationship. I'm not going to push it."

"Have you spoken to him since?"

"Besides muttered greetings in the hall? No," Steve answers, trying and failing not to sulk. 

"Okay," Nat says, leaning forward. "Break it down for me. What actually happened? There has to be more to it than a simple 'thanks but no thanks, pal'."

Steve sighs, plopping down on the couch next to Natasha. "One of his exes, an asshole named Brock, stopped by. I may have threatened him a little - I didn't like him. When Bucky got home, I warned him about Brock's visit, and we went into his apartment to talk. We talked about his past a bit, and - " Here Steve falters, but he admits, "We kissed."

Natasha's eyebrows raise. "Wow," she says. "I guess now I know why he's been avoiding me. He must be pretty ashamed of himself."

Steve shakes his head. "I kissed him - he kissed me back, but then said we shouldn't do it again, and I didn't want to push anymore, I shouldn't have even pushed that far." 

"Embarrassing, the both of you," Natasha says. "That boy, though. Someone needs to pull his head out of his ass."

"It's not going to be me," Steve mutters, wrapping his arms around himself and staring at the coffee table. "He's already shot me down twice - I don't feel like finding out if the third time's the charm. Besides, school's already started, so I'm pretty busy." 

"Busy enough that you wouldn't make time for him if he asked you to?" Nat asks.

Steve sighs. "If he asked me to, then yeah, sure. Or if it's some friendly outing - but I'm not going to keep pushing the relationship - thing. If he wants a relationship with me, he'll have to be the one to bring it up this time." 

"I get that," Nat assures him. "I just don't think it would help for me to convince him to give this a shot only to find out that you've lost interest. Not that he wouldn't deserve it, but he's my friend too and that kind of shit would knock him back another two years."

Steve leans against the back of the couch, scrubbing at his face. "I haven't," he confesses. "I still want to date him, I want to be with him, but I can only take so many rejections." 

"I understand," Nat says. "Leave it with me, okay? He's probably just really scared."

Steve nods. "If nothing else, I want to be able to talk to him again," he says. "I still want to be his friend." 

Nat smiles. "I'm sure that won't be an issue."

* * *

It's almost three hours after Natasha leaves that Bucky receives a knock on his door; it's Sam this time, and he offers Bucky a tentative grin. "Hey, man - I wanted to talk to you. Mind if I come in?" 

"Uhh, sure," Bucky says, backing away from the door. "What's up?"

Sam steps inside, but he doesn't go much farther than the entryway. "Nat and I haven't seen much of you or Steve lately," he says. "Just wanted to come see if everything was all right." 

"Everything's fine," Bucky says, too quickly, and then adds, "Is Steve okay?"

"He's fine," Sam says dismissively. "Coming off of a moping spell, but he's fine." 

"Good," Bucky says, nodding. "That's really good."

"Yeah, except for the part where you shot him down even after kissing him."

Bucky's entire body seems to crumple in on itself. "That was a mistake," he says quietly.

"Why?" Sam asks, tone gentle. 

Bucky shakes his head. "It just shouldn't have happened."

Sam sighs. "Honestly, you two are ridiculous. Why shouldn't it have happened? I'll sit here and ask why until you give me an answer, so you might as well give in now." 

The glare Bucky levels him with his halfhearted at best. "I just... It wasn't smart. I wasn't ready for..."

"For what Steve makes you feel?" Sam guesses. 

Bucky hesitates, but nods.

Sam's expression softens in sympathy. "I know that emotions like that can be intense, Bucky - but that doesn't mean you need to be scared of them, even if you don't think you're ready." 

"I'll hurt him," Bucky says, with absolute confidence. "If we end up together I'll hurt him. I won't be enough."

"Relationships always hurt," Sam counters. "What matters is how you deal with hurting and being hurt - as for not being 'enough,' why would you think that? Steve sure as hell thinks you're enough, and so do Nat and I." 

But Bucky shakes his head. "He's so _good_ , so normal," he says. "He deserves someone who can give him normal, someone who can take him out on New Year's Eve and kiss him while the fireworks go off, not someone who's far more likely to wind up cowering under a table like a spooked animal. He deserves someone _whole_."

"Steve deserves someone _good_ ," Sam corrects. "There are plenty of 'whole' people who are assholes. You're a good person, Barnes, and that is what Steve deserves. He wouldn't even have asked you out if he didn't want you, all of you." 

"He doesn't _know_ all of me," Bucky insists. "He's never seen me on bad days because I don't leave the apartment. He's never seen me without a shirt on because I'm not that stupid. But if we're together, he'll see all of that and more. There's a _reason_ why Brock didn't want to know me anymore, why no one I've been with since has worked out. I'm a fucking mess, Sam."

"Steve works with two- and three-year-olds," Sam points out. "You're not any worse than them, buddy. Trust me. Steve's willing to give this a shot, to work at this and learn everything about you, and he won't judge you. He knows you're a veteran, he knows you've seen some shit, and he's willing to put in the effort for you. I'm not saying that means you _have_ to give him a chance, but you should try to think about it, and see if it's something you really want. You deserve a chance to be happy, Bucky - maybe more than most people." 

Bucky takes a long moment to process all that, until at last he blows out a shaky breath and looks up at Sam. "I need to go talk to him, don't I?"

Sam's answering smile is gentle. "Whatever you decide, yeah - he does still want to be your friend, even if you decide you don't want to try dating him." 

Bucky nods. "I want that too."

* * *

It takes Bucky three hours to talk himself into making the decision he came to the moment Sam walked through his door and told him Steve has been _moping_. Once he's succeeded in this, he showers and shaves and makes himself look presentable, and then crosses the hall to see if Steve will still have him.

Steve frowns at the knock on his door; Nat left several hours ago, and he's not expecting anyone else. Still, he puts down his kindle and opens the door, blinking at what he finds on the other side. "Bucky?" 

"I'm a fucking idiot," Bucky says without preamble. "And I'm so sorry."

Steve frowns. "Why are you a sorry idiot?" 

"I've been treating you like shit," Bucky says. "That kiss the other day, it shouldn't have happened. But only because I had my head too far up my ass to see why it _should_ be happening, and I hurt you."

"So what pulled your head out?"

"Sam," Bucky admits. "He made me realise that I wasn't being fair to either of us by not giving you a chance."

Steve stomps on the hope threatening to break loose. "So you came over here to..." 

"Ask you to give me another shot."

Steve swallows, nervous, but he doesn't have to think very long at all. "Okay." 

The smile Bucky gives him then is breathless and beautiful. "Can I come in?"

Steve's own smile is a bit shy, but he steps out of the way, opening the door wider. "Yeah, come on in." 

"How are the babies?" Bucky asks once he's inside. "I've missed them."

"They're good," Steve says. "I think Basil's missed you, too; I don't have scruff like you do."

Bucky grins and edges over to the terrarium. "Can I?"

Steve smiles and nods. "Yeah, go ahead." 

Five minutes later and Bucky is sitting on Steve's sofa with Basil perched on his shoulder and a very smug smile on his face. He'd even gotten Thyme to sit on his palm for a few moments, but he's been gone for too long and she's grown distrustful of him again. He's confident that he'll get the chance to earn it back again, though, both from Thyme and from Steve himself.

"So," Bucky says, while Basil nuzzles his cheek, "What now?"

"Well," Steve says carefully, "how about we start with watching some television? Then maybe a date?" 

Bucky looks pleased by this. "Sounds like a plan."

Steve smiles, bright and wide. "Good. I've missed you," he admits. 

"I've missed you too," Bucky says. "A lot more than I thought was possible, actually."

"Is that a good thing?"

Bucky smiles. "I think so."

"That's good," Steve says, relieved beyond words. Still, he can't help but ask, "You're going to stick around, right?" 

"I fully intend to," Bucky says. "I can't promise I'll always be around, but... I want to work this out. I want to come back to you."

Steve smiles. "I'd like that - and I want that, too." 

"This isn't going to be pretty," Bucky warns him, because for all that he's willing to try now nothing is miraculously fixed. "There's vet stuff, and there's just dumb me stuff, and I'm really hard to be around sometimes."

Steve shifts over so he can sit next to Bucky. "Everyone's got issues," he says. "I know some of yours, I know I don't know everything, but I think so long as we actually _talk_ about things, we can make this work." 

Bucky nods, risks unsettling Basil to reach out and take Steve's hand. "I hope so."

Steve laughs as Basil lets out an indignant chirp at being disturbed. He gives Bucky's hand a squeeze as he replies, "I know so." 

* * *

They go on their first official date two days later; it's nothing fancy, just dinner at the diner around the corner followed by a walk in the park nearby, but Steve's nervous enough that he's surprised he hasn't vibrated himself apart. He ends up calling Natasha in a panic over what to wear, and when she finishes laughing at him, she talks him into something casual but nice, and he finishes getting dressed just in time for Bucky to knock on his door. 

Steve trips over the end table leg, and ends up cursing all the way to the door, apologizing before he's even turned the knob. "I'm so sorry, I panicked about something stupid and then tripped, and I - Wow. You look great." 

p>Bucky is also guilty of calling Natasha in a panic, and received the same advice; he's wearing nice jeans and a light sweater beneath a rustic leather jacket. "Thanks," he says warmly, grinning. "So do you. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Steve says with a grin. "Bit nervous, but hey, it's the first date with a guy I really like." 

"I know the feeling," Bucky admits, a light flush dusting his cheeks. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," Steve says with a grin. "Basil and Thyme have crickets and water, so they'll be fine. Shall we?" 

Bucky grins back, moves away from the doorway. "Let's."

* * *

Steve can't keep a small smile off of his face the entire time they're walking to the diner. The waitress gives them both an indulgent look when they order, though neither of them really talk until after the food arrives. Steve's the one to break the comfortable silence between them, asking, "So, it occurs to me that we haven't ever really sat down and talked about ourselves. Maybe we could do that now?" 

"Fine with me," Bucky agrees easily. "What do you want to know?"

Steve shrugs. "I don't know," he says thoughtfully. "Where did you grow up?" 

"Brooklyn," Bucky answers. "Really shitty little apartment with my ma and my sister."

"Really?" Steve asks. "I used to live in Brooklyn - I had asthma, though, and we moved out to the suburbs as soon as my mom could afford it." 

"Get out," Bucky says, grinning. "I knew there was a reason I liked you so much."

Steve grins as well. "It was only until I was, oh, about seven? Mom got a nice promotion to manager of a store on the edge of the city, and we found a small house just big enough for the both of us about ten minutes from there." 

"That's awesome," Bucky says, with feeling. "So you were sickly as a kid? You wouldn't know it now to look at you."

"It was mostly the asthma - which was fucking terrible, but luckily I grew out of it - and a proclivity for the flu," Steve explains. "Once I lost the asthma, I was able to actually go outside and work out, and generally get myself in better shape, which helped my immune system." 

"Among other things," Bucky says, eyeing Steve appreciatively.

Steve laughs. "Mom always said that puberty was rushing to catch up to me; I didn't get my growth spurt until I was seventeen." 

Bucky grins. "I bet that did you plenty of favours in high school."

"Only my senior year," Steve answers with a laugh. "I finally got laid." 

Bucky pulls a _fancy that_ sort of face, and gracefully changes the subject. "So why teaching?"

Steve shrugs. "I've always liked little kids, and they always liked me. I couldn't think of anything else I wanted to do, so I decided why not? What about you, why the military?" 

Bucky shrugs. "Kind of the same, y'know?" He grins. "Except without the kids. I didn't know what else I wanted to do, and I thought why not?"

Steve nods thoughtfully, and then hesitantly asks, "If you got the chance to do it all over, would you do it again?" 

"What, go into the army?"

"Yeah." It might be pushing it, but Steve is honestly curious. 

Bucky takes a moment, and then he answers quietly, "I don't know. It cost me a lot, and I don't know for sure that I did any good. But probably. There's always a chance that someone wouldn't be alive without me, right?"

"Yeah, there is," Steve says quietly. "For what it's worth, I think you did some good." 

Bucky smiles. "I hope so."

* * *

They stay out late enough that Steve can hear Thyme complaining about the delayed evening misting even through the door, and he offers Bucky a grin. "I should probably get back to the babies," he says ruefully, reaching out to take Bucky's hand and give it a squeeze. "But I had a great time tonight. I'd like to do it again." 

Bucky grins back and uses his hold on Steve's hand to reel him in close. "Me too," he murmurs. "There's something else I'd like to do again, too."

"Yeah?" Steve asks, feigning ignorance. "What's that?" 

"Something like this," Bucky breathes, and then they're kissing.

Steve makes a pleased sound on the back of his throat as he brings his other hand up to cup the back of Bucky's neck as he returns the kiss. "Think we can do that some more?" he asks quietly when they pull apart. 

Bucky smiles softly, but there's heat in his eyes. "I certainly wouldn't say no."

Steve returns the smile, then laughs when Thyme actually screeches from inside the apartment. "I'm sorry, Thyme is being a drama queen. Maybe next time?" 

Bucky sighs and takes a step back, releasing Steve's hand as he does so. "Next time," he agrees.

"Hey, no, come back here," Steve says with a laugh, drawing Bucky into another kiss. 

Bucky smiles against Steve's mouth, but when they break apart he gently pushes Steve away. "You should go see to your babies," he says. "I can wait."

"All right," Steve says with a smile. "I'll talk to you later?" 

"Sure," Bucky agrees, smiling.

* * *

The next few weeks pass in similar fashion. They go out on a few more dates, but more often they stay in and cook dinner together and watch TV, play boardgames, talk. Either way they almost always end up in the same place; making out on the couch, slow and unhurried, building and building towards something amazing but never quite getting there. Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn't a little frustrated, but mostly he's happy to take things slow, excited to see just where this thing with Steve is going to go. He's never felt like this before.

It's a Saturday afternoon, and they're not due to see each other until seven but Bucky's outside Steve's apartment anyway, looking tired and drawn and just a little haunted as he knocks on the door and prays for an answer.

Steve isn't home, but he comes out of the elevator in time to see Bucky knocking on his door. Steve adjusts the pet carrier in his hand, frowning at the look on Bucky's face. "Bucky, hey," he says, coming up to rest a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "What's wrong?" 

Bucky shakes his head, swallows hard. "I just spoke to Brock."

"Shit," Steve swears, fumbling for his key; he finds it and quickly opens the door. "What'd he want? Is he coming back here, because if he just shows up again, I will kick him down the stairs." 

"He's not coming back," Bucky says as he follows Steve into the apartment. "He just wanted to yell at me. Apparently he's been calling me for weeks but I blocked his number years ago, and he only just thought to call off a different phone."

"So not only is he an asshole, he's a dumbass," Steve surmises. "Why the hell does he want to get back in touch with you so badly?" 

Bucky sighs and sinks heavily onto the sofa. "Apparently his ex somehow found out about our history," he says. "Broke up with him on the spot. He wanted to know if I'd been stalking him or running my mouth."

"Wow," Steve says as he returns Basil and Thyme to their terrarium. "And it never occurred to him to think that maybe they broke up with him because of how he treated you?" 

"I think he was more concerned with how the guy found out in the first place," Bucky says. "But obviously I had nothing to do with it. Brock can do whatever he wants with his life, as long as he's out of mine."

Steve stows the pet carrier before he comes to sit down next to Bucky on the couch, wrapping an arm around the other's shoulders. "Well, here's hoping he won't come around again." 

Bucky sighs and drops his head onto Steve's shoulder. "How are the babies?" he asks after a moment.

"Good," Steve says with a smile. "They had a checkup today. Vet was very pleased with how healthy they are." 

Bucky smiles. "I'm glad."

"Me, too," Steve says with a chuckle. "Exotic pet care can be expensive; I like it when they don't make my wallet cry." 

Bucky laughs softly and sits up. "He mentioned you," he says.

"Oh yeah? Can't imagine it was anything good."

Bucky shrugs. "Not really," he says. "He said you'd realise how much work I am eventually and then you wouldn't blame him for running the other way."

Steve outright snorts at that. "Yeah, no - nothing could make me not blame him for leaving you like he did. Even if we break up, I'm not going to cut you out of my life. You're my friend, too, even if I am in love with you." 

Bucky makes a sound like all the air has just been punched out of his gut, and he looks at Steve with wide eyes. "You're what?"

It takes Steve a moment to realize what he's said, but that doesn't change his answer. "I'm in love with you." 

"Oh," Bucky says, like the eloquent bastard he is. And then, "Me too."

Steve's pretty sure he knows what Bucky means, but he can't help but tease, "You're in love with yourself?" 

"Deeply," Bucky says seriously, but he's smiling.

Steve mock-pouts. "What about me?" 

"Oh," Bucky says with a soft laugh, "I love you even more."

Steve grins. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," Bucky says. "I think for a while now."

Steve's grin widens. "I've loved you for a while, too," he confesses. "Can't say how long." 

Bucky grins and pulls Steve in for a kiss. "Say it again," he breathes.

Steve complies with both the kiss and the request. "I love you," he promises. 

Bucky melts against Steve. "I love you, too."


End file.
